


We Never Go Out of Style

by victoria_p (musesfool)



Series: tumblr prompt fic [24]
Category: Star Wars Original Trilogy
Genre: Game Recognize Game, Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-10-18
Updated: 2019-10-18
Packaged: 2020-12-23 18:46:43
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,128
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21086066
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/musesfool/pseuds/victoria_p
Summary: Style icons of the galaxy, unite!





	We Never Go Out of Style

**Author's Note:**

  * For [gloss](https://archiveofourown.org/users/gloss/gifts).

> Written for Gloss, who said, [_...omg in choosing an icon for this comment, I made myself ship Padme/Lando?? THE FASHION ALONE HOLY SHIT._](https://musesfool.dreamwidth.org/1146568.html?thread=9464008#cmt9464008) How could I resist? Title from Taylor Swift.

They all had their ways of passing time in hyperspace, and one of Elthree's was playing old holos that had been banned and erased from the holonet by the Empire. Most of them centered on droid rights, which seemed like a pipe dream to Lando, considering how the Empire didn't even believe people had rights, if those people weren't very specific types of humans who toed the Imperial line precisely, but he liked that Elthree had aspirations, even he didn't share them. But sometimes Elthree watched the great orators of the Republic and attempted to emulate their speechifying.

Lando tuned her out most of the time, but he was hungover and hunched over trying to rehydrate during a thirty-seven hour trip between Felucia and Malastare and the holo she'd paused to emulate was flickering in his peripheral vision and it was giving him a headache.

"I stand resolute and unyielding," she said. And then repeated it, louder this time, "I stand resolute and unyielding. And if you strike my voice down," she rose from the table and increased her volume yet again, "know that a chorus of thousands shall rise up in its place, for you have no dominion over the righteous."

"Very inspiring," Lando complimented her half-heartedly, pinching the bridge of his nose.

"Thank you."

He opened his eyes and actually looked at the holo as she rewound it and played it back. The woman she was quoting was beautiful, but Lando was used to beautiful women. And she had a commanding manner, but he had seen his share of crime bosses and princesses and considered himself hard to impress. But her outfit was stunning. He'd rarely seen anyone so well put together outside of his own mirror.

"Who is she?"

"Padme Amidala. She died during the Clone Wars."

"You got any more footage of her?"

Elthree cocked her head and searched her databanks for a moment. "I do. The astromech who contributed my main processor was from Naboo, and she was their senator during the war."

Lando became quite familiar with Senator Amidala's many speeches, because Elthree mined them for her own treatises on freedom that she declaimed whenever she found a potential audience. Lando was happy she was happy, and he was also happy that Senator Amidala never wore the same gown twice, and she had impeccable fashion sense. Her use of color, apparent even through the blue wash of the holos, was masterful, and she had the most ornate hairstyles he'd ever seen.

He really needed to up his game.

* * *

"We are never working with Hondo again," Lando said as he and Elthree very carefully loaded the hovercart with crates of beryllium.

"You say that every time," Elthree reminded him.

"I mean it every time." The last crate loaded, Lando shifted his shoulders and donned his cape. It was new, and it did amazing things for his complexion, if he did say so himself. He'd won the length of Pantora-silk off a Devaronian in a game of sabacc a few months ago, and had it crafted to his exacting specifications by the best tailor on Naboo. Delivering cargo to some wannabe rebels who wouldn't appreciate his splendor wasn't how he'd imagined his first time wearing it, but he'd resigned himself to reality rarely living up to his abundantly creative imagination and learned to make do. Any occasion could be a grand occasion if you dressed for it, and Lando always did.

He followed Elthree and the crate down the gangway and found himself facing three nearly indistinguishable women in unbelievably frumpy beige flight suits. He had to admit, he was impressed—they were almost pulling them off.

"Ladies," he said, "Lando Calrissian at your service."

The shortest of the three tipped her head and the tallest stepped forward to examine the crates before nodding and gesturing at a loading droid, which lumbered over to start the transfer.

"Ah, my payment," Lando said.

The third woman tossed him a wallet that jingled with credits and he passed it to Elthree, who could count it even faster than he could.

"Thank you," said the woman who seemed to be in charge. Her voice seemed very familiar but Lando couldn't place it.

Elthree's head snapped up from where she'd been counting their money. "Senator Amidala!"

All three women stiffened and went for their blasters.

Lando held his hands up in surrender. "No need to shoot," he said with a charming smile. "We're big fans."

"You're an inspiration to anyone who loves freedom," Elthree confirmed. "We thought you were dead."

"It's best that you continue to think so," she replied, and Lando could see it—there was something regal about her even in the awful flight suit, and with her glorious hair scraped back and shoved under a peaked cap. "Can we trust your discretion?"

Lando swept a bow as courtly as any he'd seen on his favorite holodrama. "Of course, my lady. We'd never betray a style icon such as yourself."

"That is a beautiful cape," she said with a rueful half-smile. "Pantora-silk and Naboo tailoring?"

"Hand-dyed in the Pantoran capital," Lando responded, "and yes, hand-stitched by Archaya in Theed." He unclasped it from around his throat and before he could think better of it, he offered it to her. "May it remind you of home."

She reached out and ran her fingers over the silk—it was smooth and cool and blue as a waterfall and Lando could see how much she admired it. Then she shook her head. "You're too kind, but I can't take such a lavish gift."

On the one hand, Lando was glad he didn't have to follow through on the overly generous impulse, because he loved his new cape. On the other, he was offended she was rejecting his beautiful gift, even if she looked incredibly beautiful and noble while she did it.

He drew the cape back and said, "I'll keep it for you, until the next time we meet."

She laughed, which made her whole face light up, and let him press a kiss to the back of her hand. "I'll hold you to that, Lando Calrissian. Until the next time we meet."

She and her ladies and the six crates of beryllium disappeared into the cargo hold of a transport ship parked across the field. Lando swirled his cape around his shoulders and did up the clasp. For about fifteen minutes, he actually contemplated joining the rebellion. Elthree would love it. But he returned to reality quickly—he wouldn't be caught dead in that ugly flight suit, and signing up to fight the Empire was a good way to die young. Which was not in Lando's plans. Still, she was a lovely woman. Maybe someday they'd meet again.

**Author's Note:**

> The speech Elthree quotes is from the TCW episode "Assassin!"

**Works inspired by this one:**

  * [[podfic] We Never Go Out of Style](https://archiveofourown.org/works/22580518) by [reena_jenkins](https://archiveofourown.org/users/reena_jenkins/pseuds/reena_jenkins)


End file.
